


grown

by ilovemygaydad



Series: in which the sides are supernatural beings [2]
Category: Sander Sides, Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: M/M, first person POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-10 22:49:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18417491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilovemygaydad/pseuds/ilovemygaydad
Summary: summary: I am the spirit of the small brooke in the woods.warnings: first person pov, abusive relationship, deceit is an abuser, religion, homophobia, mild anti-semitism, angst with a happy ending, implied depression, crying, kissing, anxiety, mentions of a prosthetic, sadness, catholic stereotypes (?), possibly something else





	grown

I am the spirit of the small brooke in the woods. I don’t know my age--time is an odd concept that I’ve never been able to master--but I would say that I’m neither old nor young. I am neither powerful nor mundane. I just am.

However, in all of my time on this earth, I had never been so fascinated by humans until the two of you showed up.  _You_  were young. You had small faces and hands and high-pitched voices, which I found truly adorable. The happy one always had so much energy, running forward and back toward the quiet one, who was much slower than he was. I’ve since figured out that it was due to the odd, metal bar that he had instead of part of his leg. 

You two would always hold hands and smile at each other with those innocent faces and missing teeth (you wouldn’t believe how shocked that I was the first time I found out humans lost teeth as humans). The happy one giggled loudly as he splashed in my water, and the quiet one would gently tell him to be quiet, but in the caring way that his voice always tended.

There were many times that you would visit my brooke as you grew; however, there was one day that changed things for a long while. I believe that you were sixteen years old, and you had been visiting the brooke for around seven years. The happy one had mellowed into a lovely young man, and, sadly, the quiet one had become anxious and scared. On that day, the quiet one was even more anxious than usual; the smell of his fear overpowered nearly all of the happy one’s emotions. You sat on your usual rocks, and a silence fell over you. I remember the conversation that followed so vividly...

_“Patton,” the quiet one said, folding the sleeves of his large hoodie over his hands. “I have something to tell you.”_

_“Aw, Virge, you know that you can tell me anything! There’s no need to be nervous.”  
_

_The quiet one waved his hands around in a vague, wild motion. “I know. I know. It’s just... I_ like _you.”_

_“I like you, too! What is it that you needed to say?” The happy one tilted his head, and I watched as the quiet one stiffened.  
_

_“No, Pat, I_ like  _you. As in, I have a crush on you.”_

_Realization dawned on the happy one’s face, and he frowned. “You can’t have a crush on me. Boys aren’t allowed to like boys. That’s what the priest at my church said. ‘Being gay is one of the worst sins.’”_

_There was a pause--one that most likely felt much longer for me as I watched the tiny bit of light left in the quiet one’s eyes die out--before the quiet one spoke again. “You’re right. Of course. I wasn’t thinking correctly.”_

_“Y’know,” the happy one said, perking back up. “Maybe you could come by my church on Sunday, and we can get all of your feelings corrected! It would be fun.”  
_

_“I can’t. I have temple, remember?”  
_

_“Can’t you just skip it? It’s not like it’s important.”  
_

_I could almost feel your friendship die as the quiet one said. “I’ll ask my mom tonight... I’ve got to be going for dinner.”_

You exchanged good byes and went your separate ways, and it was a long time before I saw you together again. The happy one only came by occasionally; he would throw stones into the brooke and talk about his day before going back, but the quiet one... you came back often. After a short while, you began to bring the liar with you. I didn’t like him from the moment that he stepped foot into the forest. His words were too heavy and too loaded to be true, but you couldn’t see past his pretty face. And you were  _angry._ Your best friend had betrayed you, and you wanted to prove him wrong with this new boy. The liar. 

I was forced to watch as the liar took advantage of your anxious nature time and time again. It pained me to see love become so tainted and spoiled. When I thought that you couldn’t get any lower, you fell even deeper. I wanted to reach out and stop you so badly...

Then, a while later--far too long, in my opinion--you came sprinting to my brooke, tripping over your false leg and sobbing. You nearly pitched forward into the ground as you came to a sudden stop at the side of the brooke, but I was able to coax the wind into righting you just in time. You fell to your knees, and I sent the water up to lap at your knees in the only comfort I could offer. I knew that the liar had hurt you in some unimaginable way.

And then the happy one came strolling into the forest. He found you crying, and he was at your side in an instant. He comforted you, and in that moment, there were no longer two singular “you”s sitting in front of me; you became one plural “you” once more. Isn’t English interesting? How you can have two singulars and one plural? Your human languages are so odd, but I digress.

You were a whole pair once again, and I was so relieved. When the quiet one’s sobs died down, it was the happy one’s time to cry. He begged forgiveness for his actions, and it was no surprise that forgiveness was given. You hugged and caught up on the past year and a half (I am loath to believe that the liar had been around for that long) and discussed your plans for after high school.

Your visits slowed down after that, and eventually they stopped altogether. I suspect that it was due to “college,” but it hurt nonetheless. I missed hearing your voices and seeing your gentle interactions. It was lonely for a long while, but I was lucky enough to have the company of the trees and animals.

When you returned, you looked much more grown up. The happy one had grown even taller, almost towering over the quiet one, who had cut his hair a bit shorter and found a signature style in purple and black. You also brought along another person, whom I dubbed “the nerd.” I mean, he wore a  _tie_  into the  _forest_. If that doesn’t scream “nerd” to you, I don’t know what will!

But the thing that I noticed most out of everything was your hands. They were clasped together.  _Finally_. I had almost given up hope that you two would fall in love. 

I think that the best part of that day was when I realized your intentions. If I were able to cry, I definitely would have as you said your vows, and again when you shared your first kiss as husbands. The nerd pretended that he was disgusted by your affection, but I saw the soft smiles that he forced down. He cares a lot for you. He’s a good friend, even if he  _is_  someone who wears a tie in a forest.

Now, I watch as you visit with your children, and I’m happy for you. I’m glad you’re together. Love always prevails, even if it endures some hardships along the way.


End file.
